I Really Have to Do Something About This!

Do you see how late it is, EST? I have wasted time. Retired or not, this is unacceptable behavior for me. Gizzie has been understandably critical. When your darling cat tells you to quit thinking you’re crippled and decrepit, listen. Gizzie has been with me almost 13 years. He knows me well.

The first thing I need to do is stop accepting the concepts of being ancient and retired. Both are states of mind that have varied definitions. I have accepted the wrong definitions. Today, right now, I change them in anticipation of the new year that begins in about three weeks! 68? Pish posh. That’s nothing. And if you don’t think so, make it so. Stop whining.

I need to get my knees working, the flexibility in my hands increased, my advanced need for sleep quelled, and this layer of most unremarkable flab replaced with muscle.

Part of this entire problem is exacerbated by prescription meds. There have to be alternatives. Until I find them, I will never be stable.

Stardate 2021. The new beginning.

I have pockets and passages of Mama’s story ready to write. An actual starting point will come to me as I write, which will be before the first of the year. It has to happen now, not later.

Trivia. My mother’s and father’s families crossed every which way across Hadrian’s Wall. It’s hard to believe that they never met, but there’s no record of it. How strange!

Let’s get on with this!